I’ve done a lot of different jobs on my journey through life. Most of them have been pretty decent, but I have had my share of horrible gigs.
I did roofing demolition for a spring break. That sucked.
I’ve had to clean the ditch underneath an automatic car wash that collects all the gunk and debris.
Not fun.I delivered phone books one winter, in freezing temperatures and long after anyone even pretended to use a phone book anymore. My moustache kept freezing into a snot-cicle.
The worst of all, though, was that time I tried to take a desk job at a bank.
But I don’t know that any of those compare to the life-long gig of the turnspit dog:
Here’s a description of the practice from JG Wood’s 1853 survey of the animal kingdom:
At one extremity of the spit was fastened a large circular box, or hollow wheel, something like the wire wheels which are so often appended to squirrel-cages; and in this wheel the Dog was accustomed to perform its daily task, by keeping it continually working.
It was common to have at least two dogs, so they could split the labor. According to Wood, if one dog got tired:
The dogs were quite able to appreciate the lapse of time, and, if not relieved from their toils at the proper hour, would leap out of the wheel without orders, and…
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